


disguising an injury gets you nowhere

by StrangerInAStrangeLand



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Hurt Stephen Strange, M/M, Whump, god i should make a schedule, self-care talk, thats all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 06:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17575949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerInAStrangeLand/pseuds/StrangerInAStrangeLand
Summary: Stephen pushes himself too far at times. He never dies, of course, but occasionally he'll need Tony to tell him to rest.





	disguising an injury gets you nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> oh wow i actually finished something for once how crazy is that

Compared to Tony, Stephen was level-headed, responsible, and sensible. Both of them knew that. 

Stephen understood what he was getting into when he began dating the narcissist long ago. Tony thought the same for awhile, until he began to realize the sorcerer's own reckless flaws. 

The first time he noticed was during the aftermath of a particularly long battle.

Tony himself had taken a few disastrous hits throughout the duel, but there was never any doubt that they would triumph in the end. Through his peripheral vision, he saw his fellow teammates stumble through pain and weariness, but continued nevertheless. 

Every so often, he'd take a bit of damage that almost caught him off-guard. But then he'd see a brisk display of blue sweep in front of him, followed by a crimson shield protecting both of their bodies. 

"By the Vishanti, Tony," Stephen would mutter. He'd struggle under the enemy's strength for a few seconds, before masterfully throwing him back as the shield disintegrated. "You're gonna get yourself killed." 

Tony would smile at him for a second, before both of them returning to their work. His heart would flutter for a second, enchanted by the bout of admiration, and a new burst of energy would rocket through his body. Perhaps it was that love for the Sorcerer that fueled his determination. 

Eventually, their enemy finally collapsed in defeat, surrendering at last. Relief filled his core in a quick instant. An ever-growing fatigue threatened to overtake his body, but he was able to stay upright for a few minutes to watch as everyone began to congratulate each other on their success. 

From the corner of his eye, however, he could see a hovering figure near him shaking through the air. As he turned around, he could see Stephen smiling proudly at him. His blue robes stained with new blood didn't do a good job at concealing his own injuries, which spread throughout his body. Pain seeped everywhere in him, from his tired eyes to his messy, ruffled hair, but he tried his best to look happy.

"You did it, Tony," he managed to say, voice barely above a whisper. And like that, he came crashing to the ground, just like their previous opponent. His eyes rolled back as gravity pulled him towards floor. Tony didn't have time to respond, but was by his side in an instant. He grabbed his shoulder, attempting to keep him from completely falling onto the surface, and looked into his eyes. 

"Strange...you oka--?"

"I'm good, I'm good." He cut off his worried thoughts with a few quick huffs. His eyes were screwed shut, clearly still in pain. "Just a little tired."

Whether it was the multitude of scars scattered around the wizard's body, or the fact that he was hardly conscious now, Tony wasn't convinced. But he couldn't say anything else before Stephen struggled to stand up. He quickly grabbed his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, figuring that he should at least support him. 

"Just, take me home." Stephen said, leaning onto Tony. His breaths were uneven, weak. "I can heal you there. You can stay the night. I can check up on you in the morning." 

He was really in pain, Tony thought, if he was letting him stay in the Sanctum. He'd hardly let him set foot into the building, let alone stay an entire night unless his head wasn't screwed on tight. 

Tony nodded, despite everything telling him that Stephen was taking this all too calmly. Wordlessly, the two made their way to the Sanctum to recover. It was a silent process as Tony let the healing spell incapsulate his body, refiguring his skin and fixing his injuries in an instant, but noticed that Stephen didn't bother to mutter something for himself.

"Aren't you gonna chant some spell for yourself?" He asked.

With a shrug, Stephen looked at him, still only half-conscious. 

"...Not important right now..." He mumbled with a smile. "G'night," he said, limping out of the living room to his own section without another word. There was an opportunity to argue that no, he should heal himself now before anything got worse, but Tony was far too tired now to think of a solid rebuttal. He just sunk into the cushions of the couch and hoped that Stephen would remember to heal himself in the morning.

That was the end of it, Tony thought. Stephen just pushed his limits this one time. He would heal himself and that would be the end of it. Nothing else.

\---

Needless to say, that was far from the last time. 

"Lie down. You're gonna die if you go back out."

One month later, Tony caught Stephen staggering through the headquarters, ready for the next mission. 

For the past month or so, the sorcerer would always attend any mission at hand. And every time, he would take as much damage as he dealt every time. Currently, he possessed a new collection of scars, each and every one of them present and noticeable on his body. 

But he didn't seem to care. Not one bit. Tony, obviously being very concerned for his health, decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Let someone else take this one, alright?" He placed an assuring hand on his shoulder. "We can handle it."  

"I'm alright, Tony. I appreciate your concern, but--" Stephen flicked his hand away.

"No, I'm serious this time. You're injured, go home. The rest of the Avengers can take it from here."

He saw a rare stubbornness flare in Stephen's eyes. A stubbornness that encapsulated him once in awhile. It was uncanny, like a fire signaling that he wouldn't be listening to him one way or another. 

"I'm telling you, I'm fine!" He plastered a fake, bitter smile on his face. "That's the advantage of magic. I can heal my wounds in a second."

"Okay, so that means you can heal your skull instantaneously when you get shot in the head?"

"That's not bound to happen."

Tony shook his head. This was just getting ridiculous, he was being delirious. 

"You're taking this too far. Take a break, you need it."

"I'm not going too far."

"Going to fight an inter-dimensional centipede demon with several broken bones and covered in half-dried alien blood is the DEFINITION of going too far!" 

"The point remains, I'm not dead."

"Yet."

That was the problem with dating a man as pigheaded as you. They knew your every argument. It was like talking down a rock. Neither of them were getting anywhere with needless bickering and they knew it. Wordlessly, Stephen walked out the room.

"Fine, go ahead and get yourself killed..." Tony spat back. "But when you're beaten into the ground later, don't expect me to come to dig you up." 

No response. Not a single word. The silent treatment was -- in other terms -- more punishable than any spell imaginable. It was aggravating enough trying to argue with him. 

"Moron," He muttered under his breath as he turned his own attention to the mission at hand. He took a mental note to bring an extra medkit in case things got out of hand. But with that thought, he began to fume. 

He hated it. He hated it so. 

He didn't hate Stephen, by any means. Nor did he hate his determination. He hated the force, the pressure he's been enacting on himself recently. He hated it all...cause it was all too familiar.

But most of all, from the bottom of his heart, he hated that he still cared about him in the aftermath. 

\--- 

By the end of the trials, the battlefield was drenched in moss-colored blood. Tony stood, resting for a second as he recovered from his newest wounds, before trudging over to Stephen. An abundance of spells were dealt throughout the battle, so likewise, their must've been some exertion on his body.

And lo and behold, the wizard was frozen in his tracks, mystified in some sort of trance. Wounds walked along his face like constellations in the midnight sky, except less dainty and more...concerning. 

"Are you, uh...are you okay there, Stephen?" Taking notice, Tony did the sensible thing and approached him. When his uneven breathing didn't cease, Tony instinctively grabbed his hand. "Maybe you should lie down for a minute."

Upon feeling a gentle intertwining of their fingers, Stephen snapped back to his senses. He peered over at Tony, trying to conceal his anguished expression with apathy. 

"I'm perfectly fine," he asserted, calm arrogance masked in his words. Tony notced that there was a subtle strain in his voice, as if he was concealing any emotion from bleeding into his words. 

He rolled his eyes, simple recognition in his face. He brushed off this half-hearted statement immediately. He couldn't take it anymore. This had been going on for far too long. Stephen needed to rest at one point or another. 

"You're bleeding," he began to argue. 

"It's not that bad," Stephen shrugged, trying to ignore the elevating pain in his right arm. "Just a scratch."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony let out an aggravated sigh. Was this what he was like to other people? How annoying.

"It's not "just a scratch", it's a stab wound! I can see the bags under your eyes, you're shivering like a puppy in the snow, and furthermore--" 

At the end of his rope, he finally pointed his finger at Stephen's arm. 

"Your arm was ripped open!"

Stephen looked over at his arm, noticing the continuous tear throughout his skin, letting troubling amounts of blood gush from his body. It was like the world tumbled into him all at once. Consciousness finally began to drift from his senses as the pain settled in. As his body wavered, signaling its approaching shutdown, all he could say was one thing. 

"...Huh. That's new." 

And like that, everything disappeared beneath his feet.

\---

When he awoke, he felt his soul settled in his body for a second, enclosed in sleep, before he instinctively separated himself from his vessel into a projection. He took in the scenery of the medbay quickly, easily deciphering the heart monitor's ongoing, consisting beeps, confirming that he was still alive. Surprisingly.

He looked over at his unconscious body. He cringed at his pale, almost demented skin, covered head to toe in scars. The age in his eyes was showing quite profusely. The amount of battles he's faced and triumphed bled in his permanent deformities. His right arm was wrapped firmly in gauze, the faded red of his blood seeping through the bandages. 

He heard a light snore on his side. Next to his mattress, he saw the ever loyal Tony Stark, watching persistently over his body tucked under the cold sheets, half asleep. He looked tired; more than usual. The time spent waiting by his bedside was clearly showing through the bags under his eyes. Meanwhile, the cloak was resting as well, nestled on his shoulders like a blanket, attentive. 

He took in the presence of his boyfriend, sure that he couldn't return the favor. Guilt washed over him as he realized he was probably getting even less sleep than he already was because of this. Then he looked back at his comatose body, and he stared, and stared, and stared.

"Hey, bastard." Stephen looked back at Tony as he heard a  Tony said quietly, out of the blue. Stephen looked over at him, catching the eyes that were now staring into his soul. "Don't act like I didn't notice that little ghost trick you just did." 

Stephen couldn't say anything. He could only watch as Tony carefully slipped away from the Cloak's grip (though it still hung on his shoulders anyway) as he made his way to his body. He motioned towards his sickly vessel with a scowl.

"You know what this is?" He waited for an answer. Stephen was painfully quiet, avoiding eye contact. Knowing he wasn't gonna get an answer sooner or later, Toy continued. "This--" He motioned over to his injured body, "--is called "going too far!"" 

On one hand, Stephen understood where he was coming from. He pushed himself over the limit, obviously. But on the other hand, magical exertion was inevitable. It hopefully wouldn't happen again

"I was f--" 

"What are you, a broken record?" Tony shot back before he could finish, throwing his arms into the air. "Stop throwing the word "fine" around. You weren't fine! Your arm got torn off and now you're a ghost!"

"It's called astral projection!"

Tony cradled his forehead in the palm of his hand, hopelessly irritated. He wasn't going to go anywhere like this. 

"Just get back in your body. I want to talk to you."

Hesitantly, Stephen obeyed his order. And when his soul reconnected with its vessel, a hideous wave of pain hit him like a truck. His eyes screwed shut. He stifled a scream, trying not to let the sudden torment get to him. He struggled to sit up, but a familiar hand rested on his chest, gently keeping him down.

"Don't even bother."

When Stephen opened his eyes to confront the voice, he found the piercing eyes of a man who was at the end of his rope.

"The next time you do this, I'm confiscating all your toys. No books, no relics, and no cloak," he stated firmly. 

The cloak raised half of its collar to slap him on the cheek. 

"...Okay, fine, keep the cloak," he said. "But right now, you're staying here for two days, and you're going to rest. Just a magic-free weekend, you, me...and the Cloak."

Stephen struggled to sit up to counterattack. He leaned on one, weak elbow as he stared Tony in the eye. 

"I need to protect reality, Tony," he asserted with a sickly voice. "It's my job, I'm the Sorcerer Supreme. This is just the price I pay for magic."

His arm staggered under his weight and he fell onto the mattress with a weak exhale. His eyes screwed shut in agony. As he slowly reopened them, he could make out his boyfriend's outline looking down on him, wincing with a mixture of pity and sympathy. 

"You're also an Avenger," Tony tenderly drifted his hand on his forehead, rubbing his thumb and sighing at an unhealed scar. "That means you also need to protect the people of the Earth. And that includes you."

"I..." For once, Stephen didn't know how to retaliate. All he wanted to do was sleep for once. 

Tony recognized the pain in his face combined with the tranquil fury of not being able to find a proper response. He chuckled. 

"God, you're whiny when you're injured. It's kinda adorable." 

After checking his watch, Tony withdrew his hand and kissed the top of Stephen's forehead

"I do this because I worry about you," he said with a rare gentleness in his tone. "I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stephen could barely raise his head as he watched Tony walk out the door. He halted in the doorframe, cocking his head back with knowingness in his eyes. He wasn't looking directly at him, but he knew he was being watched.

"Get some sleep." 

The door closed, leaving Stephen alone for another evening.

He could sense the lasting pain in his arm, reminding him that he would be here for another few days or so. Yet another price he would have to pay for his magic. Ever since he became the Sorcerer Supreme, he'd forgotten about self care. All that mattered was protecting the world.

But perhaps he could live with taking a break once in awhile. 

He stopped wrestling against the fatigue he'd been fighting for over a month. He sunk into the firm cushion of the hospital bed, locking out the fluorescent lights above him. 

For the first time in weeks, he slept the entire night.

\---

Luckily, that was the last occurrence.

An army of demons marched onto Earth, emerged from the Underworld, in order to enact vengeance for the destruction of their home. To put in bluntly, it was weird. 

At the end of it all, Tony was clinging onto his aching side as he staggered in his scratched armor. He attentively took account of each if the Avengers, keeping track if any of them were in enormous pain or peril.

"Everyone alright? Cap?"

Steve was in the corner, leaning on a piece of rock as he looked over his shield. He looked worn out, but not in any major distress. He wordlessly gave a thumbs up to signal that he was okay.

Catching his signal, Tony continued searching the premises.

"Bruce? Thor?"

He caught a wave of silver from the far right. He turned to see Thor gripping Mjolnir in his hand as he supported a disoriented Bruce under his arm. They had a few bruises, but were mostly alright.

"Anyone else? Natasha? Clint? Scott?"

Everyone else seemed to be in good condition. Each of them were in clear sight, checking up on either their armor or weapons, or tending to any injuries they might have received in combat. Everybody seemed to be taking care of each other just fine.  

The ongoing worry ceased for a second. However, to his left, farther from the rest of the team, there was a solitary shivering curtain of blue that began to trouble his senses. Recognizing what was happening, he walked closer to the blur, inspecting even closer.

"Stephen?" He whispered, delicately grabbing his arm. "You okay?" 

Stephen trembled in pain. He was hyperventilating, an oily sweat dripping from his pale forehead, pain laced in his eyes. He looked down to see Tony, locked eyes with him, and began to gracefully descend to the ground.

"Tony..."

Arms out, Tony was prepared to catch the wizard as he fell from the air and into the reigns of gravity. He fell into his arms, bridal style, struggling to stay awake. His face wasn't too scarred, but he noticeably had taken a few strong blows during their battle. 

"Help..." Stephen muttered weakly, surrendering to his pain. 

"It's okay, it's okay," He murmured assuringly. "I've got you."

He firmly held onto his partner's magically and physical drained body, gently setting him down on ground. He saw Stephen's eyes roll back and finally close, his body going limp. He kneeled down, immediately checking on any cuts, bruises, and the like.

He cringed upon discovering a particularly bloody gash, tracing his fingers along the scab line. Other than that and a few other scars, it was mostly just over-exertion. Nothing a few hours in the med bay couldn't cure. 

"FRIDAY, reserve a mattress in the med bay," Tony commanded, laced with a sigh. "Our favorite wizard collapsed again." 

He examined Stephen's unconscious body once again. There was a bout of silence as he reassured himself that there was nothing fatal. And then he smiled softly, almost pitifully. Even if he was unconscious, he still looked good. 

"At least you didn't fight it this time, Glinda," he commented, lovingly rubbing his forehead. 

\---

A few hours later, Stephen woke up in the highly-recognizable med bay. And instead of holding on to any intentions of running away, he stayed there for a day and just slept like a rock. 

Tony visited him once he came to and just...talked to him. About magic, science, technology, and the like. He sat on the side of his mattress in his well tailored suit and talked to him as if they were old friends. And Stephen thought it was astounding, which sounds dumb out loud, but he just couldn't remember the last time he just talked to Tony. 

Tony brought up a few health plans, mostly involving self care mamagement, which made Stephen snicker.

"Wow, I can't believe we switched roles," He remarked, smirking. 

Returning the smile, Tony stroked his cheek and gently pulled him into a kiss. 

Stephen happily reciprocated the favor. He grabbed his wrist, steadying his wrist, and lovingly gave himself to the man he loved. 

"I missed that," Tony said, pulling back. 

Then suddenly, they were cuddling. If it wasn't on a hospital cot, it would've been perfect. But this would fo. This was wonderful, Stephen thought, combing his fingers through Tony's hair. He closed his eyes, relishing in this peaceful moment. 

Everything is alright.


End file.
